by Cara Marsi
“You’ve always put Josh first. You’re a good mother. But you need to do something for yourself.”
“How would it look if I jumped into bed with every man I met?” Doriana asked.
“Settle down.” Laughing, Anita leaned closer. “It wouldn’t hurt to let loose once in a while. You can be discreet. Kids nowadays are pretty smart. Josh would understand if you have a boyfriend.”
“I’ve never let a man stay overnight at my house with Josh there, and I’m not about to start.” Doriana cut the air with her hands and sat down. “Enough about my love life, or lack thereof. What are you doing here? The most sought-after hair stylist in Philadelphia must have clients clamoring for her time.”
“Thanks, I think,” Anita said with a wry grin. “I scheduled a free afternoon to pamper myself for a change. I figured I’d stop by to see what time you want to meet at the Italian Market tomorrow morning. You know Nonna will only use meat from Vito’s for her wedding soup.”
“The wedding soup.” Doriana massaged her temple, fighting the beginnings of a headache. “I may have to cancel. I’m swamped with work.”
Anita narrowed her eyes. “You’re not getting out of it, Cuz. Nonna looks forward to this every year. She gets to spend time with her two favorite grandkids. You can’t disappoint her.”
“You know all the right buttons to push.” Doriana released a deep sigh. “Okay, I’ll meet you at the Market at nine.”
“Great,” Anita said, standing. “And Sunday I’ll take you to my shop and cut your hair. You need a new style. Something hot that will make Mr. Eye Candy out there sit up and take notice.”
“Stop that. I don’t care what Logan thinks.”
“Yeah, sure,” Anita said. “You were never a good liar.”
“Subject closed.”
“Okay, then. Get a haircut to make you feel better. It’ll be my Christmas gift to you, so you can’t refuse.” She smiled. “Do you know how many of my clients would sell their souls for a free haircut from me?”
“I know. I can’t get an appointment with you.”
Laughing, Anita turned toward the door. “Gotta run. See you tomorrow.”
* * * *
The morning sun seeped into her bones and Doriana shivered as she waited for Anita at the entrance to the Italian Market. Despite all the work waiting in her office, Doriana determined to put aside business and personal problems today. She wanted to enjoy the annual wedding soup day with Anita and Nonna and Mom. Josh had promised to stop by later, offering to be their official taste tester.
Doriana smiled. She and Josh had been getting along well lately. She loved him so much. Regardless of the hurt Logan inflicted on her by leaving all those years ago, he’d given her Josh. And Josh was so like Logan. They had the same expressions and mannerisms. They even walked alike.
What had possessed her to kiss Logan in her office Monday evening? She’d not been able to focus on anything else during the charity dinner. All she could think about was the feel of Logan’s lips on hers, the touch of his hands and his heated skin.
Every night since, she’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep, her body and mind filled with yearnings that Logan had awakened in her. She’d tried to keep her distance from Logan the rest of the week, fighting her attraction to him, but she’d lost the battle.
“Sorry I’m late.” Anita approached, dressed in her usual black, clutching two paper cups. “This coffee will warm you up.” She handed one of the cups to Doriana.
“Thanks. I needed this. Let’s get going. It’s cold standing here.”
They threaded their way through the crowd, walking past vendors and shops selling everything from fish kept cool on layers of ice to delectable looking cannolis. With smiles and small waves at the shop owners who sent good-natured whistles their way, the two women headed for the meat market at the other end of the street.
“Those cannolis are calling my name.” Anita pointed to the cream-filled delicacies in the window of a pastry shop.
“Let’s get some for Nonna,” Doriana said. “You know how much she loves them.”
“Great idea,” Anita said.
They started to cross to the pastry shop when Anita grabbed Doriana’s arm, stopping her. Doriana frowned. “What?”
“Isn’t that your hunky temp over there?” Anita inclined her head toward the coffee shop next to the bakery.
Doriana followed Anita’s gaze. Logan and Candi were seated by the window inside the small shop. Logan was brushing back the long strands of Candi’s blonde hair and caressing her cheek.
Doriana’s heart plummeted like a wrecking ball loosened from its chains. Shock cemented her to the spot.
As if he knew she watched, Logan turned his head and his gaze locked with Doriana’s. The loud shouts of the boisterous crowd and the honking of car horns faded as she and Logan stared at each other. Electricity arced between them across the crowded street.
Someone jostled Doriana, breaking the connection.
“Let’s get to the meat shop.” She grabbed Anita’s arm and dragged her away.
“What about the cannolis?” Anita asked.
* * * *
Candi jerked away from Logan and let her hair fall into place, covering her jaw again. She glanced out the window and back to him. “Who would have thought Boss Lady shops the Italian Market? She looked upset. She’s got a thing for you.”
“There’s nothing between me and Doriana,” Logan said. Doriana wasn’t upset to see him with Candi. Doriana didn’t care about him. He’d be a fool to believe she did.
The waitress came with their coffee. Logan used the time fixing his drink to get his twisted emotions under control. Regardless of how Doriana felt about him, he didn’t want her to believe he was the kind of guy who dated any woman who threw herself at him. Maybe he hadn’t had Doriana’s respect all those years ago, but he’d have it now.
First he had a job to do. He turned his attention back to Candi. “Forget Doriana. Tell me about that bruise on your jaw, the one you tried to hide with your hair. Who did it to you?”
Candi stirred her coffee, looking down at her cup.
Logan had seen enough bruises to know the one on Candi’s jaw was about a day old and put there by someone’s fist. Anger roiled him. He’d been on the receiving end of his father’s fist more times than he cared to count.
Candi looked at him, and tears welled in her eyes. “I walked into a door.”
“I’ve heard that one before,” he said. “Who is the bastard who did that to you?”
“No one,” she whispered.
“Candi, tell me the truth.”
She sipped coffee, avoiding his gaze and looking around the room crowded with breakfast patrons. Sighing, she put her cup down and looked into Logan’s eyes. “He really loves me. He doesn’t mean to hurt me. He needs me. He says he’ll stop, but lately he’s gotten worse. But it’s not his fault. Life hasn’t been good to him.”
“Damn it, Candi.” He banged his fist on the Formica table. Several other diners turned to stare. “Quit enabling him. It’s not love when a man uses his fists on someone smaller and less powerful. There are groups to help. I’ll put you in touch with some of them.”
A mask came over her features and he knew he was losing her. He leaned over the table and took her chin between his fingers. “Listen to me. Whoever the bastard is, he won’t change. And you can’t change him. I know. You need to get out of this relationship now. Before he kills you.”
Fear flickered in her eyes. He’d been harsh, but he needed to be, for her sake.
Logan gave her an encouraging smile. Beneath her brashness and overt sexuality lurked a scared little girl. “You don’t deserve this kind of treatment. No one does.”
She blinked and pulled free of him to grab her coffee cup. She drank quickly and set the mug on the table.
Logan signaled the waitress for more coffee.
When the waitress had refilled both their cups, Candi turned to Logan. Sadness shadowed
her blue eyes. “I haven’t been straight with him. I’ve done things. He needs me. And I’ve betrayed him.”
Laughter at the next table drew Logan’s attention. He looked over, using the distraction to gather his thoughts. He needed to convince Candi to leave the bastard, but he knew he faced an uphill fight.
He turned back to her. “His abuse is a betrayal. He won’t stop. Let me help.”
She shook her head. “He’ll kill me for sure if I leave him or call the police.” Desperation laced her voice. “You’re a nice guy, Logan. But I’m not really a good person.”
Candi’s voice had hardened. Logan knew she was already making excuses in her own mind for staying with the jerk, whoever he was. Probably the mean-looking guy in the picture on her desk. In his line of work he’d seen other women in this predicament. Circumstances in their lives rendered them powerless to stop the cycle of abuse. Sometimes only death stopped it.
As a child he couldn’t fight his old man. Then he became a man himself. He’d run away that awful night, afraid of his own strength and of what he’d done to his father.
Candi needed him now. He wanted any information she had that might help the investigation, but he wanted to help her more. “It will never get better. You need to get out now before something worse happens. I’ll do whatever I can for you.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He leaned back in his chair and sipped coffee, watching her. He’d lost her for now, but he wouldn’t give up. The smells of bacon, eggs and melted cheese made his stomach rumble, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten. But he had more important things to worry about.
Candi looked down at the diamond bracelet she wore, nervously turning it on her wrist.
“Nice bracelet,” he said. The thing must have cost a fortune. Where would Candi get money for a chunk of jewelry like that?
“Thanks. A little early Christmas present to myself.”
“You treat yourself well.”
“I worked hard for this,” she said in a defensive tone.
Logan let out a frustrated breath. “Why did you want to meet, if you don’t want my help with your abusive relationship?”
She winced but leaned closer. “I haven’t known you long, but I can’t share this with the few friends I have at work.”
“Share what?” He kept his face and voice free of emotion, wanting her confidence.
“I know about those things at work, the stealing, and the vandalism. I’m scared.”
Logan sat very still, giving Candi time.
She chewed her bottom lip, not looking at him. “Dan Callahan gave me a job when no one else would.”
“Tell me,” he said slowly. “Tell me what you know and we can figure out what to do.”
She studied the diamond bracelet, rubbing the stones, lost in thought. Lights from the overhead lamps struck the facets of the gems, as if winking at him. This assignment was becoming more complicated by the minute.
“I can’t.” She stood. “I don’t know anything. Sorry to take your time.” Grabbing her purse from the back of her chair, she turned to leave.
Logan stood and reached out to touch her arm. “Don’t go. Talk to me.”
She shook her head and strode quickly from the coffee shop.
Logan resisted the impulse to thump on the table in frustration. He signaled to the waitress for their checks instead. He’d have to go slow with Candi and gain her trust.
* * * *
Averting his face, he pressed against the side of the building next door when Candi hurried by. The slut. Cheating on him with Pretty Boy. The guy had the Callahan bitch. Now he wanted his woman. Greedy bastard. He’d show him. When he got done with the women, no one would want either of them.
* * * *
“Such beautiful girls, and neither one married. What am I to do with you?” Nonna gave Doriana’s cheek a playful pinch before doing the same to Anita.
“Oh, Nonna, marriage isn’t everything,” Doriana said, laughing. “Don’t worry about me and Anita. We’ll be okay.”
Doriana looked down at their tiny grandmother, standing next to her at the large wooden table in Nonna’s pristine white kitchen. Love swelled in Doriana’s heart for Nonna and for her own mother, Lena, busy at the other end of the table making the special bread that would go into the Italian wedding soup. Doriana smiled at Anita as they rolled ground beef and veal into the miniature meatballs that were an essential part of the flavorful soup.
An operatic aria sung by Luciano Pavarotti, Nonna’s favorite, floated through the house. Aromatic chicken broth, flavored with pungent rosemary and sweet basil wafted over the women as they worked. Doriana took a deep breath. Opera and love. Nothing ever changed at Nonna’s little house in South Philadelphia. Surrounded by the women who meant so much to her helped take away some of the pain of seeing Logan with Candi at the Italian Market earlier.
But the picture of him brushing back Candi’s hair intruded on Doriana’s thoughts. She didn’t want to care that Logan dated Candi. But he was the father of her son. He didn’t know about Josh. Guilt swept her again as she questioned her decision to keep Josh and Logan apart.
“Nonna, you tell us to get married,” Anita said. “But you raised five kids alone after Grandpop died. You didn’t need a man.”
Nonna sat next to Lena and lifted a head of escarole out of a bowl. She shifted her gaze from Anita to Doriana. Concern shone from her coal-black eyes. “I loved all my children and they were good kids, but I was lonely. You need a man to share your life.”
“I’ve given up on both my kids ever marrying,” Lena said with a dramatic sigh. “Franco’s not the marrying kind, not with the type women he dates.” She rolled her eyes.
“And Doriana, darling,” she said, “you are too much of a workaholic. Just like your father. You’ll never find a man if you don’t relax and have some fun.”
“Exactly what I tell her, Aunt Lena,” Anita said.
“Come on, please,” Doriana said. “Let it go. I’m perfectly content with my life. I have Josh. I have my work. I don’t need a man.” But she did. She needed Logan. Where the hell had that come from?
Anita let out a soft laugh. “Don’t believe Doriana. You should see the hunk she has working for her. Madone. He’s gorgeous.”
“Who’s gorgeous?” Josh walked into the room, flashing a smile for all the women. Logan’s smile. Doriana’s pulse tripped.
“You’re gorgeous,” Lena said. “Come here and give your grandmother a kiss.”
Laughing, Josh gave Lena and Nonna pecks on the cheek. “So you were talking about me?”
“You sound more like your Uncle Franco every day,” Anita said. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment.” She glanced at Lena. “Sorry, Aunt Lena.” She looked back at Josh. “We were talking about your mom’s new assistant.”
Josh opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. He opened it and raised the carton, ready to drink.
“Josh Callahan, you use a glass,” Doriana said. “You know better.”
With a shrug, he opened a cabinet and drew out a glass. He filled the glass with juice and took a long swallow. “Who’s this new assistant, Mom?” he asked, putting the glass down on the tile counter.
Doriana’s face heated. “It’s not a big deal. Logan is taking Lisa’s place until her leave is over.”
Josh leaned against the counter and reached over for a cookie from Nonna’s ever-filled pastry jar. He bit into a cookie. “The guy’s hot?” Crumbs fell from his mouth.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Doriana said.
“Is he the reason you won’t let me come to your office?” Mischief lit Josh’s hazel eyes.
Anita stopped in the act of rolling a tiny meatball. She looked from Doriana to Josh and back again. “You won’t let your son come to your office? There is something between you and Logan. I knew it.”
“Anita, stop that right now,” Doriana said. “If my hands weren’t cove
red in raw meat, I’d throttle you.”
Anita laughed. “Perhaps you protest too much.”
Lena stopped mixing eggs and flour and looked at Doriana. “Tell us about this man. He sounds interesting.”
Lena wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a white streak of flour across her smooth skin. Doriana smiled. Her mom still retained the dark beauty that made Dan Callahan propose marriage within one week of meeting her. Sadness vined around Doriana’s heart. Would she ever find the happiness her parents found with each other?
She shrugged the thought aside. “There’s nothing to tell about Logan.” She ignored the little pang of guilt at the lie. “Dad hired him. I don’t know much about him, but Dad seems high on him.” She couldn’t keep the slight edge of resentment out of her voice.
Lena arched a brow. “So your father is interfering with your work? He always has to be in control.”
“But he doesn’t control my department.”
Laughing, Lena went back to mixing flour and eggs. “So much alike, you two.”
“Anita, you tell us about this young man,” Nonna said. “He’s handsome?”
“Yeah, Anita, tell us,” Josh said. “Mom will just try to change the subject.” Josh walked over to Doriana and gave her a quick hug. “Don’t be ashamed if you like this guy, Mom. You need a life.”
“Listen to your son,” Anita said, waving a meat-crusted hand.
Doriana slanted Anita a quelling look. Anita laughed.
“Well, Anita, tell us.” Lena stopped mixing and rested with her elbows on the table.
“I only met him for a few minutes, but he seemed nice,” Anita said. “And he’s scorching hot.” She smiled as her gaze circled the table. “He’s tall, great body. Looks like he works out. Wavy light brown hair. And absolutely awesome hazel eyes. A definite hunk.”
Anita frowned and looked at Josh. “Josh, you have the same hazel eyes as Logan, down to the gold flecks.”
Doriana’s breath stopped. She focused on rolling a perfect tiny meatball. She knew Anita was staring at her.
“Maybe we should invite him for Thanksgiving dinner,” Nonna said.
